


Damaged to the Roots

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Child Abuse, Depression, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Insanity, Multiple chapters, Mute - Freeform, Paranoia, Pathological Lying, Psychology, Suicidal Tendencies, Visions, asylum AU, did, runaways - Freeform, salf harm, split personality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is now an askblog/tumblr account for this AU. Feel free to ask questions, submit fanart (haha yeah right) and browse! There will be things on the blog that will not be appearing here, like answers to questions, exclusive art, and journal entries by the characters!<br/>It's an asylum AU. Michael suffers from depression, Lucifer suicidal tendencies and self harm, Gabriel mutism, Castiel DID and autism, Balthazar paranoia and pathological lying, and Anna visions and schizophrenia.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interview with Frontier 5/8/13 12: 42pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar

Dr. Naomi Cummings turned on the tape recorder before her, stating the time and who she was about to interview. The man in question was sitting across from her, only a few feet away, but he looked like he was miles away. His bright eyes, shrouded in crow’s feet were darting everywhere, his lean frame was rocking back and forth, he looked like he was about to bolt. Even though he was sitting, his feet were positioned towards the door. If he had to run he could, and easily be out of there.  
Naomi sighed. This would not be a very informative session. Balthazar Fortier never gave a straight answer and none of the interviews she had recorded had any information that matched up.  
Naomi: Hello Balthazar, how are you today?  
Balthazar: Oh me? I’m delighted that you asked! I feel fresh, energized, never better!  
Naomi: That’s good to hear. I take it you’re taking your medication?  
Balthazar: You know I’m a good boy, doc.  
She knew he wasn’t. She had been told by the orderlies that Balthazar had been hiding the pills in his cheek and spitting them out when he thought that they weren’t looking. She wrote that down on her clipboard.  
Naomi: So, is there anything you would like to tell me, today?  
Balthazar: You look very lovely today.  
Naomi: Well, thank you very much.  
And she wasn’t sure if this was a lie or not. Balthazar may have lied often, but when it came to flirting he was always gung ho. She knew that she was attractive and she could tell that he agreed with her. That was an opinion that didn’t change very often.  
Naomi: Anything else?  
Balthazar: There’s much more but I think I would be put into seclusion for my inappropriate comments.  
Naomi: I see.  
Naomi: Can you tell me why you ran away from home?  
It was the question she asked every week, but she never gave it subtlety. It was a surprise each time and it made Balthazar straighten his curved back and stare at her, suddenly too thin and scared.  
Balthazar: You don’t want to know.  
Naomi: I do. If I know what happened I could help you better.  
Balthazar kicked out his legs, leaning back in the chair, stroking his thin blonde stubble with one shaky hand.  
Balthazar: I don’t want to talk about it.  
Naomi: I know. It’s hard. But the sooner you tell me, the sooner we can get past it.  
Balthazar: (sighing) My father. He… He beat us, regularly, my sister and I. He blamed us for our mother’s death. She died in childbirth. She was never supposed to have twins. I should never have been born.  
Naomi waited, listened, patiently. She didn’t want to interrupt. She wasn’t even pretending to take notes though.  
Balthazar: I was the second twin. If it had just been my sister, everything would have been fine. Then, there was an incident. His anger grew too much, his beatings, they almost killed me. I had to go to the hospital. The doctors saw all of the scarring all of the damage, how I reacted to touch. They knew what this was. They recorded everything and called the police.  
Balthazar was shaking, his eyes brimming with tears. He was starting to stutter, unable to control his voice. He stopped rocking and curled in on himself, trying to contain the fear and pain of the memories. Naomi still said nothing.  
Balthazar: That didn’t work. My sister defended my father, it was how we were trained. We knew he would hurt us worse if we told. But the doctor’s they told me that that wasn’t right, told me that I could live a different life, a better one. I ran away. I couldn’t go back to that house. I left my sister there. Oh God, she’s probably dead by now.  
Naomi: May I interrupt?  
Balthazar stared at her, panting and glad to be stopped.  
Naomi: That’s Mr. Amadeus’ story. You were an only child.  
Balthazar: Oh yes, that, that’s right. I’m sorry. I…  
Naomi: You couldn’t help it. I know. What caused that? Why can’t you tell the truth?  
Balthazar: Lying is easier. It’s something I can work with. It’s more interesting too. The truth is much less and I don’t like to dwell on them.  
Naomi wrote that down. That sounded like the truth. At least they were getting somewhere there.  
Naomi: Do you think we’ll ever be able to speak about why you ran away from home?  
Balthazar: I would rather not ever think about that.  
Naomi: I know. But try.  
Balthazar: Next week, alright? We’ll try again next week?  
They always had these one on ones once a week. Naomi nodded.  
Naomi: We’ll change the subject for now. How are you liking the others?  
Balthazar: Well we do have one gorgeous young lady. Her hair is like fire. Talks to herself, shy, but I could turn her around on that.  
Naomi: I’m sure you could, if you could get her to agree to go out with you.  
Balthazar: Oh yes, there is that pesky nonsense.  
Naomi: How about the others? I heard you and Mr. Kalb had a disagreement the other day that led to some blows.  
Balthazar: What? No. Lucifer is a complete gentleman, would never hurt a soul, other than himself.  
Naomi: You were the one delivering the blows.  
Balthazar: Is that right? I don’t even remember that. I think you may have me confused with someone else.  
Naomi: And Mr. Amadeus? You two seem to have gotten close.  
Balthazar: Can anyone get close to Castiel? No he doesn’t permit that. Jimmy though, him I like. Jimmy works so hard, trying to make everyone smile. I even saw Michael smiling the other day.  
That was hard to believe. Michael never smiled.  
Naomi: You tend to stay away from Michael.  
Balthazar: I saw him steal some of Anna’s pills. I don’t trust him.  
Naomi: The orderlies keep a close eye on Michael. He hasn’t stolen anything.  
Balthazar: I wouldn’t be so sure. I definitely don’t leave anything of mine out for him to grab.  
Naomi: I don’t think that’s necessary.  
Balthazar: I truly believe it is.  
Naomi checked her watch and sighed. She wasn’t sure if these sessions were too short or two long.  
Naomi: It looks like we’re out of time.  
Balthazar practically jumped out of his seat, stretching his long arms behind his back, making his ribs show through his thin white hospital shirt. They were all too thin. They had enough food, but they had all come in skinny.  
Balthazar: Next week, love?  
Naomi: Yes. I look forward to it. We’ll see you in group before then, right?  
Balthazar: Always.  
Naomi: Oh! And take your medication!  
He skipped out of the room, leaving the door slightly open behind him. Naomi closed it the rest of the way and sighed. She sighed a lot, when she thought about it. She poured herself some coffee and, thinking about everything Balthazar had said, she tried to fill in her report. His were always the hardest as there was so much to sift through, trying to find anything that could have been true.


	2. Interview with Kalb 5/8/13 1:08pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer

Naomi almost didn’t hear him enter, only really noticed him when he slumped into the chair before her. His sleeves were long but crinkled, showing that they had been rolled up to the elbows earlier. His hood was up, dragged over his face. He didn’t like people seeing him. It was a pity, since he really was quite handsome in the right light, would be more so without the scars.   
As per usual, Naomi turned on the tape recorder, gave the time and his name before conducting the interview.  
Naomi: Lucifer. How are you feeling today?  
He bit at his lip and turned away from her, looking towards the window. There were a few birds out there, flitting about on the branches.  
Lucifer: Peachy keen. What’s up doc?  
Naomi: I heard you got in a fight recently with Mr. Frontier. You want to tell me about it?  
Lucifer: The guys a psycho. You know that? He thought I was watching him. Why would I watch him? He’s boring. Didn’t seem to matter though.  
Naomi: You didn’t fight back. Why is that?  
Lucifer: Why would I?  
Naomi: Well, getting punched, that’s likely to hurt.   
Lucifer: I’ve had worse. He wanted to hit something. I thought I would be better than any of the others.  
Naomi: You sacrificed yourself.  
Lucifer: Hell yeah! And I would again.  
Naomi: How are you though? You say you’re fine but, I haven’t seen your sleeves down in a while. You hiding something?  
Lucifer: Aren’t we all?  
Naomi tilted her head. She knew Lucifer, knew he was willing to tell her things. He didn’t lie but he did mask his words a lot. Movie quotes and pop culture references hid a lot of pain in him. She knew that if she was patient though, she would get what she asked for.  
He swallowed, hard, but he did push up his sleeves. There were old burn marks in his skin and some new ones, open and weeping. She didn’t know what it was about burning, but that was his medium of choice.  
Naomi: Any particular reason why?  
Lucifer: When people think you’re dying, the really really listen to you, instead of just…  
Naomi: Fight Club.  
Fight Club had been one of the books Lucifer was reading lately. They wouldn’t chow it in the ward, too much sex and violence, but he could read whatever he wanted.   
He nodded.  
Lucifer: I just. I want to feel, you know? Sometimes. Sometimes I can’t feel my skin, I don’t feel like I’m really here. So I open it up. When it hurts I’m reminded that it’s real. It’s real and if I want to end it all, well, that would hurt worse.  
Naomi: And that’s why you let Mr. Frontier hit you.  
Lucifer: Yes.  
Naomi: If it gets that bad you take to one of us. Do I make myself clear?  
Lucifer: As an unmuddied lake, Fred. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, Fred.  
Naomi: A Clockwork Orange.  
He nodded. This was like a game to them. Luckily for Naomi she knew what he was reading, always, and she knew what was on in the day room.   
Naomi: Are you liking it here, Lucifer?  
Lucifer: It has its ups and its downs. It’s boring here, you know? I don’t feel like I fit. I mean, I’m not crazy. Not like those bozos. I feel like an outsider. I’m sane. That normally puts me on the other side of these walls.  
Naomi: You’ve tried to kill yourself three times, I’d think that puts you on the right side of these walls.  
Lucifer: Yeah well, we gotta do what we gotta do.  
Naomi: You had a friend here: Raphael Lecuyer. He was released recently. How do you feel about that?  
Lucifer: Who can say. Best thing for him, really. His therapy was going nowhere.  
Naomi: Silence of the Lambs?  
Lucifer: That’s right.  
Naomi: But how do you feel, really?  
Lucifer: He was right in the head. He wasn’t nuts at all. He was broken. His daddy never loved him, just used him. So he became bitter and black and he tried to use others the same way. I’m glad he’s gone. I miss him, but I am glad he’s gone.  
Naomi: You mentioned his father. Do you want to talk about your own father?  
Lucifer: There’s nothing down that road besides what Freud believed.  
Naomi: You wanted a carnal relation with your mother?  
Lucifer: We all want to be our father’s so bad that we end up hating them.   
Naomi: Did you become your father?  
He leaned back, revealing the scar tissue on his face. There were some fresh burns there too. Around his neck was a different kind of burn scar, one given by a rope.  
Lucifer: I did. That’s how I got this. Like I said, I ended up hating him.  
Naomi: So no good memories?  
Lucifer: Dozens, tens of thousands. So many good memories. The thing is I loved my father. I loved him more than anything but. He couldn’t. He couldn’t love me in the same way. See, he was a God to me, the most powerful man alive. But I could never be good enough could never see things the way he did. I was a disappointment. So, when I became him, I could see the flaws in myself that he did.  
Naomi: That’s very sad.  
Lucifer: Well you would say that, wouldn’t you? It’s what you’re paid to say.  
Naomi: I’m sorry I don’t recognize that quote.  
Lucifer: It wasn’t a quote.  
Naomi looked at her watch. This was getting dark and it was getting dark fast. It was almost over at least.  
Naomi: I would say it even if I wasn’t paid to. It is sad that your father saw you in such a negative light. There’s no reason you should see yourself like that. You have such good qualities.  
Lucifer: (chuckling) Oh yeah? Like what?  
Naomi: You take care of people. You want to sacrifice for them. You’re brave and you have a good sense of humor. You have a good laugh. If you took care of yourself the way you take care of the people you love, there would be no reason for you to be here.  
Lucifer: I should go. I’m probably cutting into your time.  
Naomi: It’s fine. I’d rather have you here than worry about you.  
Lucifer stood from his seat and Naomi followed him with her eyes. He wasn’t small but he held himself that way. He was probably the healthiest weight of all her patients, but he still seemed frail under the sweat pants and hoody.   
Lucifer: Is that a flirtation?  
Naomi: I don’t flirt with my patients.  
He started heading towards the door.  
Naomi: Hey Lucifer?  
He stopped and turned.  
Naomi: Take care of yourself, alright?


	3. Interview with Amadeus 5/10/13 9:52am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel.  
> If I have any inaccuracies please let me know. I do not have a psychology background although I do find this stuff highly interesting. I don't know much of anything about Autism though.

The man before him was the darkest of all. Of all of the patients, he was the most distant, the hardest to reach, and he was also the one with the darkest features. Dr. Zachariah Moncrieff didn’t know if that was a coincidence or not.   
The patient sat perfectly straight, looking down, eyes a bit more blank than they should be. Zachariah prepped the tape recorder and began.  
Zachariah: Mr. Amadeus. How nice it is for you to join me today. How are you feeling?  
Castiel: Fine. I’m. Fine.  
Zachariah: Are you sure? You seem to be hesitant on that.  
Castiel: Why am I. Here?  
Zachariah: You know why you’re here. You’re sick. You’re here to get better.  
Castiel: I know that. Why am I. With you?  
Mr. Amadeus was drawing, writing in some made up language on his leg, over and over again. His nail was short, his fingertip soft, any hardness rubbed off. He was constantly carving those symbols into his leg.  
Zachariah: We thought this might be a better fit. When you were with Dr. Winchester… You weren’t improving. In fact, we found your relationship a bit dangerous. You know, we aren’t supposed to have more than a professional relationship with our patients.  
Castiel: Our relationship. Was very prof. Essional.  
Zachariah: Don’t bull shit a bull shitter, Mr. Amadeus. You don’t like people, you don’t like being around them. What was it about Dr. Winchester that drew you?  
Castiel: He was. Kind. He cared too. Much. And the love he has. For his brother. It must be hard. For him. To see his brother here.  
Zachariah: His brother works here. He’s not a patient.  
Castiel: Oh? Surprising.  
Zachariah flipped through his notes. This wasn’t going anywhere. It never did. Mr. Amadeus was too closed off.  
Zachariah: Have you been drawing? You stopped for a while.  
Mr. Amadeus nodded.  
Zachariah: What have you been drawing?  
Castiel: Just. Shapes.  
Zachariah: Like always. What are these shapes? What do they mean?  
Castiel: Don’t know. See them. In my dreams. Anna knows.   
Zachariah: You showed them to Anna?  
Castiel: Said they were the words. In the walls. She sees them. Sometimes.  
Zachariah: The shapes? She sees the shapes?  
He nodded again.  
Zachariah: I think it might be best for her to not see your drawings. She sees enough without having shapes to add to it.  
Castiel: She’s nice. I don’t. Like her medication. At all.  
Zachariah: Oh? And why is that?   
Castiel: It makes her. Flat. Dull. She’s always tired. And. Drowsy.  
Zachariah: Common side effects. They should be helping her though.  
Castiel: Is. Mine?  
Zachariah: It seems to be. People with your illness usually manifest more personalities with treatment. With you it’s still just the two. That’s very interesting, but good. It makes everything a lot easier.  
Mr. Amadeus shifted, looking outside. He hadn’t looked at Zachariah yet, he probably wouldn’t. He wasn’t good at making eye contact. He wasn’t good at holding a conversation or being around other people.   
Castiel: Does he. Know?  
Zachariah: I don’t believe he does. He doesn’t make any mention of it.  
Castiel: Oh.   
Zachariah: It’s good to know that you know about him. What all do you know?  
Castiel: Not much. People like him more. He’s not.  
Zachariah: Autistic?  
Castiel: He has a wife. A daughter. But. I don’t understand. How do you. Have a family. Without having. A family?  
Zachariah: He just believes that he has a family. The people don’t actually exist.   
Castiel: Has he. Been interviewed like. This?  
Zachariah: Yes. Not by me. This is my first session alone with you. Dr. Winchester has though and he’s supposedly looking through his things and organizing them so he can get those interviews to me. I’ve never seen someone so disorganized.  
Castiel: You don’t like him.   
Zachariah: I don’t approve of his methods, no. Would you stop doing that?  
Mr. Amadeus stopped everything, finally looking up, making eye contact for the first time the entire meeting. His eyes were a startlingly dark blue and they bore into Zachariah with an otherworldly presence. His hand did stop though, the shapes he was tracing again and again into his sweat pants rubbing off the skin underneath. He needed to draw them, needed to fidget and move. It was part of his illness. He had to repetitive motions that he had to continue to do and it was almost constant. That didn’t stop it from being irritating.  
Zachariah: My apologies. We’re practically done here; you can go and draw those on something other than your leg if you wish.  
Castiel stood, losing eye contact and practically slumped over himself. He looked so small there, alone, and as he shuffled out the door, leaving Zachariah to write his report, he did not say a word. He never said more than he had to.


	4. Interview with Paquet 5/13/2013 12:09pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna

Ms. Paquet did not look like she wanted to be there. Her eyes darted everywhere and she never seemed to listen. She was listening and she was seeing, just not what she was supposed to see. She was always punctual though and that was good. Her fidgeting set Dr. Moncrieff’s teeth on edge. He sometimes just wanted to grab her by the shoulders and hold her down, keep her still.   
Zachariah: Ms. Paquet? It’s good to see you. How are you doing today?  
Anna: It’s okay. I’m okay. How are you?  
Zachariah snapped, trying to get her attention. He got it for a moment before losing it again.   
Zachariah: I’m worried. I heard that you’re not taking your medication.  
Anna: Doesn’t matter.  
Zachariah: It doesn’t matter? Don’t you want to get better?  
She actually stared at him for a moment.  
Anna: Better? Is there such a thing as better? Dr. Moncrieff, I’ve heard them, seen them, my entire life. If I get better I don’t know if I would know what to do. It’s absolutely terrifying to consider.  
Zachariah: It would be a big change, but it would be good, don’t you think? That is why you’re here.  
Anna: I don’t think it would. The things I see. I’m not sure if they aren’t real.  
Zachariah: Oh? You seemed pretty sure last time we spoke.  
Anna: It’s changed.  
Zachariah stopped writing for a moment, staring at her. He wasn’t sure if he should allow her to continue. She was being recorded after all.   
Zachariah: What are you seeing now?  
Anna: Monsters.  
Zachariah sighed. He had nothing to worry about. No one would believe Ms. Paquet anyway. It was haloes a few weeks before and air and she said she could see the letters that made up words.  
Zachariah: Monsters? Do you know what they want?  
Her fiery hair covered her face as she shook her head, just a shade away from violent.   
Anna: I can normally see what people say but not here. These things. They speak in symbols, not letters.  
Zachariah: Mr. Amadeus has been drawing these symbols, hasn’t he? He said that he was dreaming about them.  
She nodded. She looked extremely tired and thin.   
Anna: He was dreaming about them before I said anything. I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t plant the idea in his head.   
Zachariah: Have you spoken to Mr. Novak about it at all?  
Anna: Jimmy treats me like a charity. I don’t like it.   
Zachariah: But you’re friends with Mr. Amadeus. That’s quite a feat. Most people don’t know how to handle him.   
Anna: It has nothing to do with handling. It has everything to do with understanding. I know he doesn’t like talking very much and I know he likes to draw. I like his halo too.   
He fought the urge to wipe his whole face with his hand. He knew that it was a sign of impatience and irritation. If he showed that Anna’s visions did nothing but annoy him she would shut off and he wouldn’t be able to continue.  
Zachariah: You judge people by their haloes a lot, don’t you?  
Anna: Yes, Dr. Moncrieff.   
Zachariah: What about mine?  
She stared at him, no, not at him, above him, just a few inches.   
Anna: I don’t like it. I’m sorry. It just puts me on edge.  
Zachariah: Is there anything I can do about that?  
Anna: No. It’s just who you are.  
He searched through his notes. He was certain that he had a detailed description of all the haloes she saw.   
Zachariah: I remember you saying that someone here didn’t have a halo. Who was that?  
Anna: Lucifer.  
Zachariah: Oh yes, Mr. Kalb. Didn’t he have something else instead?  
Anna: Yes. He has a cloud or an aura or something. I don’t know the right word for it. But it’s icy and cold and it hangs around his head like a fog. It’s hard to get close to him. I don’t understand a lot of what he says.  
Zachariah: He quotes a lot of movies. Most people don’t catch the references.   
Anna: I don’t catch a lot of things, do I?  
Zachariah: You would. But you have to take your medication.  
Anna: I don’t like them though. They turn everything yellow.  
He stopped. That wasn’t a side effect of the drugs normally.  
Zachariah: Do you mean it turns everything yellow? Or that it makes you see things as yellow?  
Anna: Everything tastes yellow too. And sounds yellow.  
Zachariah: Yellow has a sound?  
Anna: You’ve never heard it.  
She looked away and started to close in on herself. She was starting to doubt. She knew that no one saw things the way that she did. Still, when that was pointed out to her she had a hard time with it.   
Zachariah: Let’s change the topic. How are you liking group?  
Anna: I like it. I like seeing everyone. A lot of them won’t talk to me in the day room.  
Zachariah: You like being with the others though?  
Anna: I like group more than one on one to be perfectly honest.  
Zachariah: Why is that?  
Anna: I’m a part of something. The orderlies aren’t there too. And Dr. Winchester is there. I like him. He has a nice halo.  
He ignored the comment about Dr. Winchester. Everyone seemed to like him the most.   
Zachariah: What’s wrong with the orderlies?  
Anna: Dr. Winchester’s brother is one of them. I don’t like him. He’s got a monster inside of him. I can see it, this darkness radiating from his soul. It scares me. And he’s so angry sometimes. He has a hard time keeping it in.   
Zachariah: We all have our demons.  
Anna: Yes, but I think he fears his and fights it. He should make friends with it. Learn to control it. I think he would be happier.   
Zachariah: I’m sure everyone would be happier if they could befriend their demons.  
Anna: It’s really hard, isn’t it?  
Zachariah nodded and checked his watch. It was just about time for their session to be over. Most of the other patients were done too quickly and he had to fill the rest of the time with small talk. Anna saw so much though, the interviews were almost cryptic.   
Zachariah: Oh it looks like we’re done for today.  
Anna: I see.  
Zachariah: Did you want to stay longer?  
Anna: Oh! No. No, I’m good.  
She stood up, straightening out her clothes. She wore a nice but frumpy shirt and sweatpants, not a lot to straighten out. Still, she wanted to look good on some level as she turned towards the door.  
Zachariah: Don’t forget to take your medicine!  
She closed the door without a word.


	5. Interview with Stiles 5/13/2013 1:03pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel

Dr. Dean Winchester liked his job. He was good at it. What he didn’t understand was how all of his patients had gone missing. Anna had been shifted over to Dr. Moncrieff a month ago, now Cas and Jimmy have been transferred to him as well. He hadn’t done anything, just been friendly, and now he wasn’t allowed to treat them anymore.   
That left him with Gabriel. No one else wanted him. There wasn’t much wrong with him, Dean liked him, but he was hard to interview weekly. The normal tape recorder didn’t work. Dean had gone out and purchased a video camera on his own for the interviews. They proved a lot more useful.   
Gabriel was the smallest of the patients, in size as well as stature. He held himself like a child, trying to hide. He had an honest and kind face. He looked like an innocent. He probably was an innocent. The problem was that he wouldn’t speak.  
Dean: Hey Gabe! How’s it going?  
Gabriel smiled at him. He had thin lips and small teeth and when he smiled his face just looked stretched.   
Dean: Good! Good. Anything specific you want to talk about today?  
Gabriel shrugged.  
Dean: Yeah, I know how that goes. Not a lot to talk about when you’re stuck in one place for so long. You know they used to have field trips, right? It was before you came. We used to go out exploring, take all of the patients out to museums and parks and plays and things. I miss that. We just haven’t had the money to do it lately.  
Gabriel turned his eyes to the floor and sighed. Yeah, he was bored. How can you not be bored in a place like this?  
Dean: You want to go off somewhere? I’ve got this great little cabin, right next to a lake. I’m sure I could get clearance. You, Sammy, and I could go down there for a day or two.  
Gabriel perked up at that. He smiled more broadly and his golden eyes sparkled.   
Dean: Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll talk to Mr. Shurley, see if I can clear it.   
Dean: So, onto business. Are you liking it here? Do you think It’s helping?  
Gabriel made a face somewhere between a smile and a wince. He shrugged and then waved his hand. So-so.   
Dean: It’s tough I know. Is it the medication? Do you not think it’s working?  
Gabriel shrugged. He didn’t really need medication. It’s not like taking pills will want you to speak.  
Dean: I don’t really understand why you’re on medication anyway. To me it just seems that you don’t want to talk. There’s something you’re afraid to say. Medication isn’t going to loosen your tongue.  
Gabriel looked to the ground and shifted his feet. He really did look small. Dean just wanted to wrap his arms around him, hold him close. He was that tiny and needy of protection.  
Dean: You know you can trust me, right? If you ever need anything, to talk or to just, whatever, I’m here. If I’m not in my office you can get a phone from one of the other doctors and text me. I will come get you.  
Gabriel nodded. He still looked tiny. Insignificant.   
He jumped when Dean reached out and put a hand on his knee. He melted into the touch slowly, finally looking up again.  
Dean: No need to be scared. You’re in a safe place. I don’t want to push you. Just go at your own pace.  
Gabriel faked a small little smile and nodded.   
Dean: We have group in a few days. Are you going to be joining us?  
Gabriel nodded more strongly.  
Dean: You like group. Of course you do. There’s a cute girl in there!  
Gabriel rolled his eyes. He’d never shown much interest in Anna.  
Dean: What you aren’t interested?  
Gabriel shook his head.  
Dean: Well Lucifer’s there. You two used to be really close, when you first got here. He kind of took you under his wing.  
Gabriel looked a bit more sad at that. They really had been close then all of a sudden Lucifer was done with him. Stopped talking to him and just kind of stayed away.  
Dean: What happened between you two?  
Gabriel couldn’t answer that with a shrug or a nod. He brought his knees up to his chin, his feet on the edge of the chair.   
Dean rolled his eyes. This wasn’t any good.  
Dean: Hey, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.   
Dean dug around in his pocket. He knew Gabriel, knew what he needed more than anything. He found what he was looking for.   
Dean: We’re almost done here anyways, unless there’s anything on your mind.   
He held out his hand. Gabriel was slow to open up, to walk over and take the shiny wrapped hard candy from Dean’s hand. It was slightly soft from Dean’s pocket.   
He beamed as he unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth.  
Dean: Don’t tell anyone I gave you that, okay? Otherwise they’ll all be coming around trying to get candy.  
Gabriel bowed to him, his own way of thanking. Dean waved his hands, showing that there was no need for that.  
Dean: You have a good one, alright? Keep your head up.  
Gabriel nodded as he walked off.


	6. Interview with Novak 1:09pm 5/27/2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Novak

It was clear that this wasn’t Mr. Amadeus. He was brighter, happier, really easy to speak to. When he sat across from Zachariah, he was open, ankle over knee, and he leaned back. It was much more relaxed and easy to get to.   
Dr. Moncrieff likes Mr. Novak.   
Zachariah: Hello Mr. Novak, how are you today?  
Mr. Novak looked him over, not quite comfortable with him.  
Jimmy: I thought I had a session with Dr. Winchester today.  
Zachariah: Yes well that wasn’t working out   
Jimmy: I felt it was.  
Dr. Moncrieff rolled his eyes.  
Zachariah: Well, there were a few issues with your relationship with him. Even Dr. Shurley noticed it. It was too strong, too friendly to be strictly professional.  
Jimmy: What did they think we were romantic or something?  
Dr. Moncrieff didn’t dignify that with an answer. He raised an eyebrow though.  
Mr. Novak looked insulted.  
Jimmy: You’re joking! I am a good Christian man with a loving wife and daughter! I have done nothing with any man more than professionally. That’s an insult to my character!  
Zachariah: Homosexuality is nothing to be ashamed of.  
Jimmy: The Bible says it is. And it’s a greater offense to perform adultery.   
Zachariah: My apologies.  
Mr. Novak glared at him but caved. There was nothing else to say.   
Jimmy: Speaking of my family, have they come by? I black out sometimes, forget things, sometimes whole days go by that I don’t even know about. I didn’t miss them, did I?  
Mr. Novak had no family, no wife and daughter like he claimed. His sister didn’t even know he was there, if she was even alive. Dr. Moncrieff wanted to tell him, wanted to spill that he wasn’t a real person. He wasn’t. He was a submissive personality.   
He didn’t want to hurt him though. He had already angered him by insinuating that he was homosexual. He wasn’t supposed to anyway. There were certain ways these were supposed to go.   
Zachariah: No. No they haven’t come in yet.  
Jimmy: Oh. Oh I see.  
He looked so small, so delicate. Every word hurt.   
Jimmy: Do you think. Do you think they’re ashamed of me?   
Zachariah: What? No. No, Mr. Novak. Amelia, Claire, they aren’t staying away because they are ashamed of you. This is a terrifying process. They’re probably afraid to come, to see you in the process. They want to see the beginning, the end, everything in-between is a mystery.   
It didn’t seem to help much.  
Zachariah: This is normal. I’ve seen it many times.  
Jimmy: Why am I even here?  
Zachariah: What?  
Jimmy: I don’t even know why I’m in this place. I’m in a penitentiary. I had a good job, a great family, I had a good place in the church. What am I doing here? I don’t even remember losing my mind.  
Zachariah: This is a hospital. No one is saying that you’re insane.  
Jimmy: Yes they are.  
Dr. Moncrieff looked through his notes. He had to have something, some diagnoses for Mr. Novak. He couldn’t just say that he wasn’t a person.   
Zachariah: Stress. That’s all it was. You had a nervous breakdown and have really high anxiety. You’re just here so we can find your stressors and help relieve them.   
Jimmy: Is it working?  
Zachariah: Slowly. Are you happy here?  
Jimmy: No.   
Jimmy: I don’t get along very well with these people. I pray for them, I really do, but, when they look at me, it’s like they don’t know who I am.  
Jimmy: They call me the wrong name sometimes. Dr. Winchester and, uh, Anna are the only ones that will talk to me.   
Zachariah: Well, you have one of those faces. It’s a good face, but you look like other people.  
Jimmy: They call me Castiel.  
Dr. Moncrieff bit his cheek. He wanted to say it, give everything away.   
Zachariah: We had a Castiel here. You look a lot like him now that I think about it.   
Jimmy: I see.  
Dr. Moncrieff checked his watch.   
Zachariah: Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?  
Mr. Novak just shrugged.   
Jimmy: I can’t think of anything. I’ll see you next week?  
Zachariah: We can only hope.


End file.
